


Memories of His Pe'a

by QwertySnek



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Childhood Memories, Cute Young Hunk, Dreams and Nightmares, How Do I Tag, Lance Isn't A Dick For Once, M/M, Not Beta Read, Samoan Hunk, Written late at night, tattooed hunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-23 00:16:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9631085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QwertySnek/pseuds/QwertySnek
Summary: Something I wrote at like midnight and decided to post without anyone beta-reading it for me.ORHunk re-lives painful memories of getting his tattoo in his dreams and Lance wakes him up to remind him it's all over now.





	

The view was beautiful. Beautiful, and oh, so familiar. Golden sands stretched out before him, melding into bronze dirt and scattered patches of yellowing grass beneath his bare feet. Feet that seemed too small. Legs that seemed too short and too smooth beneath their tattered blue shorts. Lifting his head again to stare out at the crystal ocean that glittered under the sun, Hunk let out a soft sigh. This was no pleasant return home. This was a memory. One that came back many nights in his dreams. Bad dreams, but ones he refused to call nightmares.

"Hunk, honey." The voice of his mother carried on the breeze that made his long hair tickle the sides of his round face, and he looked over to his left. There she was, shielding her warm, dark eyes from the glare of the sun with one hand. "They're waiting for you." When she stepped aside to reveal the fale, he saw the three other boys already laying on the mats in the shade, all of them looking uneasy and gripping onto sticks they had been offered. The reassuring smile of his mother coaxed him forward, and after a reluctant few moments of undressing, he lay face down on the mat and allowed a cloth to be draped over him for decency. 

After seeing his mother retreat to a respectful distance to stand by the side of his father, the young Hunk closed his eyes tightly, burying his face in his arms. Had he any say in this he wouldn't be here right now. He'd heard the stories, he'd heard the song. The song which had lyrics that spoke of the pain he would feel... That very song started up, and he lifted his head. But that was when the first stab of pain drew a short cry from his lips. 

\--- 

A yelp of pain woke the blue paladin from his peaceful slumber, half laying atop his large boyfriend. At first he thought he imagined it, and closed his eyes to go back to sleep. A soft whimper told him that no, he had indeed heard something. Pushing himself up against Hunk's shoulders, Lance looked down at him in the blue glow of the room, leaning sideways to get a look at his face. He looked uncomfortable, his brows drawn together tightly, his cute nose wrinkled slightly. Laying beside him instead of on his back, Lance debated whether or not he should wake him up. It didn't seem too bad yet, maybe he should wait... He rubbed his hand in circles on his back, hoping to soothe the sleeping male.

\---

Each tap of the wood seemed to get louder and louder, a rhythm that would haunt him for the rest of his life. Each tap meant a sting of pain that shot up his spine, a hand on his back rubbing away excess ink and blood from his tan skin. He could feel the circles it was rubbing on his back, but it did little to soothe him when each slice of pain felt like he was being pierced with six blunt needles. Which was essentially exactly what was happening. 

Who knew how long he had endured by now? Hours? Minutes? Days? Time seemed to blur together until all he knew was the pain on his body, blinding searing pain that felt like white-hot knife blades in his skin. He was given food and water, but he didn't want it. He just wanted this to be over. It was too much for his young body, he was sure of it. 

"Stop! Stop, please!" The sound of his own barely-broken cracking voice made him inwardly cringe, but there wasn't anything he could do about it in this half-lucid dream. He knew he was dreaming, but as it was a memory and not his imagination, there wasn't much he could do to change it. "It hurts!"

\---

After a few moments of rubbing his back, the sound of Hunk's murmured voice broke through Lance's reverie involving that planet of mermaids he had crashed on with Hunk a while back. What he heard concerned him. 

"What hurts...? Talk to me, Hunk. Tell me what I can do to help..." He murmured, wondering what he might be able to coax out through the filter of his dream. It upset him to know that something would ever hurt Hunk. He was so sweet and kind... Softly, he ran one of his slightly paler, olive hands over Hunk's exposed cheek, brushing a lock of his ebony hair back away from his face. In the dim blue light, he could see a light sheen of sweat beginning to gather on his furrowed brow. 

"Pe'a... Make it stop..." The Samoan mumbled, squirming a little and whimpering, clutching a fistful of his pillow. "Please... Mmgh..." 

Pe'a? Wasn't that what Hunk had told him the tattoo he had was called? He lifted his head and peered down, where the top of it was peeping out from under the blankets in the small of his broad back. He lowered a hand, stroking over the ink staining the smooth skin there, pressing his cheek against his shoulder with a sigh. He knew just from last night it stretched from his knees to his waist, all very intricate and pretty. Lance had been told by Hunk himself that he was very proud of what this tattoo represented, but any questions about how long it had taken or if it had hurt had been very obviously avoided. 

"Come on buddy... Stay strong..." 

\---

A breeze touched his cheek and blew his hair, and for a moment he felt comforted. It was like something was there reassuring him and comforting him despite the fact his parents were stood several feet away and well out of touching distance. They sang softly with the other adults gathered around the edge of the fale, hoping to encourage the four boys who were all crying with the pain, drowning out the sounds of the wooden tapping almost completely. His own cries added to them in a pitiful chorus, his body soaked through with sweat with the exertion of straining and crying, tears streaking his chubby cheeks and soaking his dark lashes. 

Again and again he cried out for them to stop, but somewhere in the back of his mind he knew they would not relent. Not unless his parents stepped forward to stop them or they finished for the day. He had been mid cry when he felt something jump on him and he woke with a start, letting out a cry of surprise.

For a moment he was surprised everything was dark, and it took him a few seconds for his memories to come back. By which time he realised his pillow was damp beneath his face, his eyes wet and sore. The weight of whatever jumped on him was still on his back, and he slowly turned his head to look over his shoulder. With a sniff, he let out a soft laugh and lifted a hand to wipe his eyes. 

"This is why I didn't want you to stay..." He whispered, his shoulders beginning to shake as he buried his face in his pillow, more tears welling up, throat sore with the urge to sob. 

"Hunk..." Lance murmured, climbing off of his back and cuddling up to his side, his arms wrapped around the large male as best he could. "It's okay... It's okay..." He tried his best to soothe him, stroking his hair and rubbing his back. "It's all over now, right?" 

 

It was a few moments before the yellow paladin managed to calm himself enough to reply. His fingers were stiff from gripping fistfuls of the pillow so tightly, his jaw sore from grinding his teeth in an effort to stay quiet. "Lance..." He started, sniffing as he lifted his head from the wet pillow. Turning to his side, he pulled the skinny Cuban close, holding the small body against his tightly, burying his face in the crook of his neck. "It hurt so much, Lance... Thank you... Thank you for waking me up..." He had never woken up before it was finished before. The swell of pride was nothing compared to the sweeping flood of relief that it was finished and morning had come.

"How often do you have that nightmare...?" Lance asked him quietly, a concerned frown on his face as he ran his hands through Hunk's sweat-dampened hair soothingly. He was thinking that it might be better if he continued to stay with him, so he could wake him up if it ever happened again. 

"No." He shook his head, pulling back to look at him. "It's not a nightmare." He wiped his eyes with the back of a wrist. "It means too much..." 

"Then whatever it is!" Lance exclaimed, staring at him with a frown. "I'm staying here with you more often. I can't bear thinking that you've been hurting every night and I could have stopped it. I'm not going to let you have that... dream again." 

"...Fa'afetai..." He murmured, leaning back against the pillow and looking up at Lance with a soft smile, reaching up to gently cup his cheek in one large hand. He seemed so small sometimes, especially now, when Hunk held his cheek like this. His hands were large enough that his fingertips disappeared into his soft hair when cradling his jaw. "Ou te alofa ia te oe..." 

Closing his eyes, Lance leaned forward and gently pressed his forehead against Hunk's. "I love you too, big guy. You and that tattoo of yours."

**Author's Note:**

> Fale - traditional Samoan 'houses' with no real walls
> 
> Pe'a - Intricate male tattoo from the knees to the waist
> 
> Fa'afetai - "Thank you"
> 
> Ou te alofa ia te oe - "I love you" 
> 
>  
> 
> Kudos and especially comments are much appreciated! I always reply to my comments so if you have any questions feel free to ask!


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